


Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

by Aoratos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Drinking, Drunkenness, During Canon, F/M, Grief/Mourning, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, References to Macbeth, Time Turner (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoratos/pseuds/Aoratos
Summary: Set September of 2019, during the opening third year of the Crused child. Draco returns home after dropping off his son to go to his third year,and now alone takes time to remember his wife.





	Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

I had come back from the train station after watching Scorpius ride off again and I almost call out for her, but I remember, she's not going to reply. I hang my coat up and remove my shoes before I sit in the study on the recliner, shifted to be at an angle from the fireplace, so I could look at the loveseat she normally lay in while we talked and more than once made love on days like this. I get up to distract myself from that painful memory, I feel a bit cold, so I go about putting on the fireplace and grabbing a bottle from the case usually reserved for parties. Then as I sit again I pull out then begin to play with the ring that was around her finger not a month ago. It's a constant reminder it will not be the same, unlike my son’s birth or her accepting my proposal, unlike those happy times; this was a reminder of loss, in its most final and permanent.

I had previously shyed from my father and mother for her, I'd have forsake them and all I had with the Malfoy name for even another second with her, Astoria. I reach for the bottle of muggle made brandy, I hesitate as I see my ring on the hand holding the bottle. She hated when I drank, said it made me like my father. She said that the man she loved would disappear behind the cruelty and anger that my family had shaped in me. I had with that idea in mind, set down this exact bottle that day, never wishing to drink it again especially for her. Instead of destroying it I had locked it away for guest who'd fancy it over the taste of enchanted wines and rum we kept a selection of. None did, muggles were still a filthy kind to the guest we had though they wouldn't dare speak of it as more than sniping commentary over dinner. It was apart of being a Malfoy and accepted part of the higher wizard families in private, but Astoria and I had worked to change that aspect, not by lecture but by example. I'd tell her such when she'd become flustered at the general lack of respect shown toward muggles after they left or the following days. 

I pick up the bottle with my wedding ring hand, opening it with the other still holding her ring to my palm, I hold the top next to the ring and silently ask for her forgiveness as I drink. I think of the time turner my father left me, how I could use that to see her, but always didn't grab it. I had learned that It'd destroy more than save, it could cause her to never exist, for us to never be, for Potter to potentially fail but, most of all for the fact she told me even in those final hours she accepts this and I should too would be betrayed. I drink deeply from the bottle , my throat still use to the sting. I finally let myself breath and put the bottle down at my side table.

The fireplace crackles and the first few sticks atop the log begins to fall apart, the fall had already brought cold and notable rain, as if the skies mourned for their friend. Astoria loved to walk out in a warm fall day, like this morning, the sun was rather pleasant and wind while everpresent felt like a refreshing breeze. She'd sit and take in the beauty of the leaves and sketch a bit, she always would hide the final picture from me but I knew she was accomplished with her sketches. I remember more now because of the one time she had reminded me of how short time together would be. She had said she loved fall because it showed that there was an ever going cycle in nature, that even if the leaves died the tree would remain and even if the tree died it's saplings would grow from it. I'd beg her truthfully that I'd wish she'd not speak that way and she would bring me close and kiss my forehead after clearing my blonde locks away. Then she'd tell me that she knows I worry, and she worries too but we always knew this when I proposed.

My mind feels hazy now, I am proper buzzed. It makes the more happier moments come easier to me. I remember her asking if she should get a tattoo, as we laid in bed together one night. I questioned what she wanted and she said the words from the book Macbeth 'Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow" perfectly looped so it looked like it was on going forever. I asked why would she want that, she said nothing but I'd find out the truth upon re-reading. The line comes from acceptance of death, how life is only in its own way an illusion or a stage play where we play our parts then exit it's halls, and that even for all the noise and passion it was meaningless. I'd Iike to believe it was was something of her accepting that she was going to die of her malediction.

I look at the empty loveseat and back at the ring still in my free hand, my finger rubs over the jewel. 

“Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” I whisper knowing, that one “tomorrow“ we'd see each other again.

Until then I take another drink as I watch the flames. Soon I'm asleep and once again dreaming of you, dear Astoria.


End file.
